


On the Rocks

by TheTalentedMrHolmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, Female John, Female Sherlock, Femlock, Figure Skater Sherlock, Figure skater Jane, Ice Skating, Mention of past biphobia, figure skating AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:37:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1321795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTalentedMrHolmes/pseuds/TheTalentedMrHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes was the best technical skater Jane Watson had ever met. She was pure, undiluted perfection on ice. Only she lacked the emotion to win her next competition. Can Jane help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Rocks

**Author's Note:**

> _"On the rocks" (of a drink) served undiluted and with ice cubes._  
>  More random fluffy smutty fic - Not beta read :)

_Sherlock Holmes is a contradiction_ , Jane mused while she watched the woman skate. She stood, leaning against the side of the rink, an audience of one. Their trainer was stood closer to Sherlock as she practised, walking around the outside of the rink, nodding or making comments, clapping to the rhythm of the song Sherlock would perform to in the competition, _keep in time!_

Jane smiled softly as she watched. Sherlock really was an excellent skater. She performed each spin, jump and transition with amazing accuracy. They were textbook perfect. But while Sherlock had such obvious passion and drive for the sport, she lacked the ability to show it on the ice.

Occasionally after Jane's practise she would come over and make critiques of her skating. At first Jane had thought it was to antagonise her - they were competitors, after all - but she soon noticed that Sherlock was actually being helpful.

Jane had had to switch coaches several months ago after an unfortunate event and when she joined all she had heard from the other skaters was that Sherlock was a bitch. Jane thought she was a bit rude, yes, but a bitch was too far. She never tried to sabotage anyone, she never hurt anyone, she was just passionate about technique.

But other than terse little tips, Sherlock barely spoke a word to her at all.

"Watson!" Their trainer called, making Jane tear her eyes from Sherlock. She walked around to him and looked towards him expectantly. "Get Sherlock here ready for Saturday, I don't care if you need to stay with her here the whole week; make her a winner."

And with that he left, leaving Jane with one thought:

_How on earth am I supposed to improve perfection?_

The noise of skates on ice drew her attention and she met Sherlock's gaze. She was tall, much taller than Jane, especially with the skates on, and her eyes were as cold as the ice she stood on. It sparked a shiver in Jane's spine that she couldn't quite interpret.

"What did he say?" She demanded, glancing up at the retreating back before pinning Jane with her eyes again. She seemed to have worked it out before Jane could even open her mouth, because the next thing she said was "Oh for god's sake." under her breath, before skating away to the middle of the ice.

Jane gaped then walked around the edge of the rink to the entrance and pulled her skates on once more before gliding onto the ice to join Sherlock.

"Are you alright?" She asked, hoping that emotionally reaching out to her might seal their unity of New Girl and Bitch against the rest of the team.

"Teach me how to feel, then. Give the tin woman a heart." Sherlock simply demanded in return, shocking Jane by almost sneering down at her, drawing circles in the ice around her.

"Well, what are you passionate about?" Jane started, standing tall despite feeling short and awkward compared to the other woman.

"Skating, but obviously you don't mean that because that much is obvious to the both of us, so: the violin." She replied, coming to a stop, towering over Jane.

"Right. Well. Uh, you could try skating - nothing complicated, mind - with the violin?" She suggested, mocking a violin pose briefly.

Sherlock glided past her, rolling her eyes dramatically. "You're ridiculous."

Jane's arms dropped to her side and she trailed behind her towards the exit.

*

It was Thursday before Jane saw Sherlock again. Everyday she had gone to the rink and waited for Sherlock to turn up before giving in and leaving. After her own practise on Thursday she decided to take a walk in Hyde park and Sherlock magically appeared out of nowhere. She immediately got a shove for her trouble.

"Where have you been?!" Jane angrily asked, crossing her arms over her bosom.

"Busy," Sherlock said mysteriously. But Jane had no patience for mystery right then.

"Have you even been practicing? Did you try the violin?" She began walking again with a stomp to her steps, expecting Sherlock to keep up.

"Of course. I went at nine every day."

"Nine? But I was there at nine! I was there at nine this morning!"

Sherlock gave her a sidelong look and Jane gasped. "You can't go at night! You could have gotten hurt, you could have been arrested!"

"I've always been good at avoiding security," Sherlock brushed off, walking in another direction so Jane had to trot to keep up with her. Jane stared up at her, marvelling at the madness of the woman, her anger now mostly forgotten.

"I don't believe the violin did the trick," the taller woman admitted quietly a few minutes later, icy gaze focused on the people around them.

"What else makes you passionate, then? Do you have a boyfriend?" Perhaps it was too personal, but they only had a limited amount of time left before Sherlock's competition and Jane was beginning to feel desperate.

Sherlock gave her a curious look and Jane felt as though she had said something particularly funny, but was being left out of the joke.

"Boyfriend... Not my area," she said, her features straight once more.

"Girlfriend, or special someone else, then? Which is fine," Jane said quickly, not wanting her pleasant surprise to come off as something mocking.

"I find it interesting that you need to say that," Sherlock mused, smiling a little down at Jane. "You've said it often, perhaps in the defence of someone close to you? Then again, you're very kind hearted so it could well have been a stranger on the street."

"My sister," Jane explained, brows raised at the deductions. "And partly myself. Mainly my sister; where we lived wasn't very nice when we were growing up. Harry was stubborn - I am too, really, but I didn't think it was anyone's business if I liked more than just blokes. It was only when people started picking up on it, trying to make me kiss their girlfriends, calling me confused or greedy, that I needed to defend myself more."

"There's no one, if you still wanted the answer to your question," Sherlock murmured, looking thoughtful. People generally thought she was more machine than human, so the issue of sexuality never really arose; people didn't care who you liked if they thought you were a freak anyway.

"Right, so, you're unattached, like me." Jane said with a small smile, although it didn't get them closer to finding something to help Sherlock be passionate on the ice.

"I'm flattered," Sherlock purred with a smile, looking amused once more, if a little amazed. "Coffee?"

It took a moment before Jane realised what had happened and she laughed softly in surprise. "Yeah, alright then." She grinned, following Sherlock to the nearest café. Maybe their conversation would help them after all.

*

"How do you feel?" Jane asked, her arms stretching up around Sherlock's shoulders, Sherlock's arms around her waist. They were back at the rink, nine in the morning on Friday, just holding each other while they travelled around the ice. Jane felt butterflies and could only hope Sherlock felt the same.

"Lighter. Which is odd seeing as you are only added weight really," Sherlock replied, a tiny glint in her eye which meant she was only being logical but also teasing a little too. As soon as they were in the café and Jane asked about where she had been, she called her an _'idiot who only saw and didn't observe'_. Jane had been offended and shocked, but she soon realised that was just Sherlock's way of speaking. It was rude, but she didn't mean to be rude, she was just being honest. It was like her little tips after practises all over again.

She also realised that Sherlock really was some sort of genius (as she had been busy helping her posh government brother with some sort of foreign affair that would have been too complicated for her to understand if Sherlock was even allowed to tell her) and Jane had needed to bite her lip to stop herself from squirming in her seat.

"Try skating with me, now." Jane smiled, taking Sherlock's hand and leading her through parts of Sherlock's routine. She let Sherlock do the jumps and spins by herself, standing back to watch. There was definite improvement now. Sherlock no longer held herself rigidly, her cheeks were flushed and eyes bright with emotion. She was really feeling the heart of the music, of the story she was creating through her skating, and it was brilliant.

"Amazing!" Jane cried, bumping into her with a laugh, going on point to kiss Sherlock's plump lips. Jane blushed once she pulled away, but Sherlock certainly didn't seem unhappy. "Think you can do that tomorrow without me?"

"Certainly," She replied, breathless and laughing softly. She was confident and brilliant and beautiful - Jane was utterly smitten.

*

"You know, you're supposed to be my competition," Jane breathed into Sherlock neck Saturday night, kissing and biting the soft flesh there before grinning up at Sherlock.

Sherlock grinned right back and flipped them, pinning Jane to the wall. She pressed her front to Jane's and towered over her, making her feel weak at the knees; how on earth did Sherlock know she loved her height? How on earth did Sherlock know anything, really? Far too clever for her own good-

"-This isn't something I would normally advise, but stop thinking," Sherlock interrupted with a laugh, pressing her warm lips to Jane's while she began to strip the layers from her body. "As for being my competition," she continued. "It'll certainly make some things more interesting."

Jane gasped softly as her torso was bared to the cool air in the flat. Sherlock's flat was a mix of horribly messy and gaudy, and wonderfully classy and homey. Even Sherlock's flat itself was a contradiction.

"Mm, bed. Bed. Before I have you on the sofa with that skull watching." She panted, eyes flickering over the skull on the mantel before she was pulled through the kitchen into a surprisingly neat bedroom. She found herself up against the door, her life being kissed from her. "Oh god," she moaned, hopping slightly, wrapping her legs around Sherlock's hips as they fought to get closer and closer.

They tumbled into bed, stripping each other quickly, ignoring finesse; there would be time for that later. The only thing Jane insisted Sherlock keep on was the small gold medal hanging from a dark purple ribbon around her neck. The purple looked gorgeous against her skin, after all.

With that thought in mind, Jane tangled her fingers with Sherlock's and pinned her to the bed, biting a red and purple bruise into her neck. She moaned softly, nosing along the ribbon until she reached Sherlock's petite teacup breasts. She peppered them with kisses, loving the impatient whimpers coming from above her. She looked up, eyes dark with desire, matching Sherlock's own. "Sixty-nine?" She proposed, lips swollen and red.

Sherlock shook her head and gathered Jane forwards. She sat up, wrapped her legs loosely around Jane and encouraged her to do the same until they were utterly tangled. Jane moaned and wrapped one arm around Sherlock's back while her other moved between stroking Sherlock's hair, her jaw, her breast. Sherlock shifted closer and suddenly there was heat against hers, their cunts pressed together.

Jane moaned again and was pulled into a kiss to silence her. They rocked together, rubbing against each other with intimate gasps against each other's lips. Sweat clung to Jane's skin but she didn't care, she was desperate for Sherlock and had her right in her arms, nothing else mattered.

"Oh fuck," she gasped, squeezing the woman's breast hard at a particularly delightful thrust. Sherlock gasped and did it over and over, wet noises filling the room as well as the squeaks of the bed creaking.

"Fuck yes, fuck yes - oh, Sherlock!" Jane cried as she came, rocking fast and hard against the other woman. She was pulled into another kiss and felt Sherlock's tension, felt her release before she even gasped out her name. They held each other, groins still nestled intimately together as they shook and caught their breath.

Suddenly Sherlock was gone and Jane opened her eyes to see the woman sprawled out on the bed, legs still tangled loosely around her. Jane giggled and moved to lie half beside and half on top of her, kissing her brilliant purple bruise. She toyed with Sherlock's medal, feeling proud; hopefully Sherlock wouldn't have a problem with emotion and passion in her skating for a long while.

"I think you're right," Jane said happily after a moment.

"Obviously," Sherlock said with a smug little smile. It took a moment before she opened her eyes again. "About what?"

"Being in competition with each other will _definitely_ make some things more interesting."

Sherlock laughed and rolled onto her front, moving to straddle Jane's stomach and fondle her breasts.

"Think you can keep up with me?" She challenged playfully, pinching at Jane's nipples.

Jane batted Sherlock's hands away and pushed her back to pin her once again, this time crawling slowly down her body towards her new destination.

"Oh god, _yes_." 


End file.
